A Cigarette Moment
by Jax Malcolm
Summary: It's a rough job, but someone's got to do it. One shot. Response to a prompt.


If he had ever started smoking, right then would be the time when he would take a nice cigarette from his pocket, stick it in his mouth, and light it up. As it stood, he was against smoking, despite the fact that he felt that it would make the picture of a man leaning against a dragon statue complete. Of course, that idea also ignored the fact that there was no smoking in the Gym, which was heavily ironic because there were pools of boiling water and lava placed in key locations (namely, _everywhere_) along the bottom of the Gym.

No one spoke to him. The Gym was crowded with trainers, yes, but many of them were far more content with sitting in their corners and waiting to stop challengers from reaching the Gym Leader. He envied not a single one of them, especially since they, as he reminded himself, often muttered under their breaths about the inhumanity of having to sit around in heat that pushed the mercury well over the one hundred mark while he sat and enjoyed the cool mountain breezes floating in whenever someone happened to open the Gym door. In his mind, it was a silent slap in the face towards all the little brats who bragged about their unstoppable dragons.

Yet even with the complaints from the ordinarily smug Gym Trainers, the man couldn't help but look towards the door and wonder what his relatives were doing. All of them acted alike, and all of them passed word about upcoming trainers and the recent events occurring with their Gym to every other relative in the same league. But most of all, all of them except for him _weren't in Blackthorn Gym_.

On the other hand, _someone_ had to take Blackthorn Gym. Even if it was the least pleasant Gym in the Johto circuit (which was saying something, considering Azalea Town's greenhouse of a Gym and the seemingly lack of floors in Ecruteak Gym), it was a job that had to be done. It filled him with a sense of pride that he took the hardest Gym, even though his relatives all whispered that all he was doing was a job no one else wanted to do. It was like a janitor taking pride in his clean toilets while his brothers bragged about their law firms and high business positions.

Somewhere behind him, a piercing scream guided him back to reality. He sighed. Another challenger touched a pool without thinking. It was a shame. That was the ninth trainer this week who would have to be escorted from the Gym with bandages on his hands instead of a badge in one. He waited, and sure enough, one of the junior trainers walked past with a disgusted sneer on her face and the arm of a whimpering (and limping) trainer in one hand. The boy's sneakers were still smoldering.

As soon as the door closed, the man near the statue rethought his advice. Normally, he would tell a new challenger about the weaknesses of Dragon-type Pokémon. "Freeze Clair with an Ice-type!" "Fight fire with fire using a Dragon-type!"

That's what he used to say. Now, he thought it would be more appropriate to say something else. Something a bit more practical.

As if on cue, a trainer walked through the door. The boy's hands were in the pockets of his khaki shorts when he stepped over the threshold, but only a few moments later, his hands were struggling to pull his red and white sweatshirt and baseball hat off his body. He barely noticed the man near the dragon statue except for the fact that the man's steady gaze was, in the boy's mind, heavily uncomfortable.

Eventually, the boy gave up his fight against his clothing and opted for simply staring back at the man.

"What?" he said.

The man didn't reply. Seconds became minutes, and the boy shifted impatiently on his feet. Eventually, he began walking away, and at that point, the man remembered what he wanted to say.

"Hey kid," he said. "Do not touch the water."

Abruptly, the trainer stopped and turned to face the man.

"What?"

Tonelessly, the man repeated, "Do not touch the water."

The trainer blinked and let the advice sink into his skull. He opened his mouth to question the need for such a tip, but before he could say it, he stopped and closed his mouth again. With a shrug, he turned away.

"Whatever."

He left the man leaning against the statue as he headed back towards Clair. The man didn't dare stop him. Instead, he stared straight ahead and waited. It would only be moments before what he was expecting would happen. After all, it often went that way. Trainers would stop and listen to the man's advice, only to shrug it off as something obvious and unnecessary. The man was only there to take up space, they thought. There was no need to even waste time on him.

However, suddenly, a sharp scream rose behind him. With a sigh, he waited for one of the junior trainers to escort the young newcomer out of the Gym, and sure enough, a male Dragon trainer walked briskly past with the whimpering newcomer limping beside him. Half-heartedly, the man at the statue wished trainers would just take his advice now and then.

But what he really wanted at that moment was a cigarette.


End file.
